#Annie Wilkes from Misery

[xxxcoffinz-aeztheticzxxx]

Another one of theze boardz!! Thiz time bazed on characterz that remind me of Shrignold!!

[inlovewithaspiderguy]

I love making middle aged horror villain women into my babygirls.

[justaaveragereader]

With spooky season hot on arrival, you can’t help but scream with what was supposed to be joy…

Every corner you turn you are on the brink of death rather from multiple orgasms, or a fast chase through an abandoned town..

From hot thriller killers, all the way to pervy, panty snatching thieves..Hold onto your underwear everyone, SlasherAteez is taking over the spooky season!

Coming in October of 2024…!

Welcome To Slashtober 2024’!

• 10.01🔪 Jennifers Body!Yeosang as Jennifer

•Degradation + Dollification

• 10.08🔪Knock Knock!Hongjoong & San as Bell and Genesis

•Humiliation + Bondage

• 10.13🔪 Misery!Yunho as Annie Wilkes

•Dominance + Primal

• 10.18🔪 Silence Of The Lambs!Wooyoung as Hannibal Lector

•Biting + Marking

• 10.23🔪 House Of Wax!Mingi & Jongho as Vincent and Bo

•Double Penetration + Wax Play

• 10.28🔪 Split!Seonghwa as Kevin Wendell Crumb

•Breeding + Impact Play

©️Please do not steal, translate, copy, or change any of the work tagged above. This includes all the fics and graphics. The graphics are made by me unless stated otherwise.

Taglist Is Closed! If you are an ageless account, and or have your age on your page but have nothing posted/reposted on it, im going to assume you are a bot and or a minor, so to avoid getting blocked, update the pages my lovelies🖤!

[alasarys]

Recommended books for the drivers from BookPeople, Austin, Texas (insta)

Daniel Ricciardo: Friday Night Lights – "... every Friday night from September to December, when the Permian High School Panthers play football, this West Texas town becomes a place where dreams can come true."

Lando Norris: Assassin's Apprentice – "Fitz ... must give up his old ways and embrace a new life of weaponry, scribing, courtly manners; and how to kill a man secretly, as he trains to become a royal assassin."

Alex Albon: My Brilliant Friend – "... a rich, intense and generous-hearted story about two friends ... a touching meditation on the nature of friendship."

Logan Sargeant: Once Upon a Time in Hollywood – "hilarious, delicious, and brutal"

Yuki Tsunoda: A Cook's Tour – "the unpredictable adventures of America's boldest and bravest chef."

Carlos Sainz: Great American Golf Stories – "some of the best classic writings, both fact and realistic fiction, that reflect the rich history, tradition, agony, and ecstasy of one of our most enduring and endearing pastimes."

Oscar Piastri: Iona Iverson's Rules for Commuting – "It turns out that talking to strangers can teach you about the world around you--and even more about yourself."

Lance Stroll: Infinite Jest – "Set in an addicts' halfway house and a tennis academy, and featuring the most endearingly screwed-up family to come along in recent fiction, Infinite Jest explores essential questions about what entertainment is and why it has come to so dominate our lives; about how our desire for entertainment affects our need to connect with other people; and about what the pleasures we choose say about who we are."

Charles Leclerc: Every Good Boy Does Fine – "[Denk] reminds us that we must never stop asking questions about music and its purposes: consolation, an armor against disillusionment, pure pleasure, a diversion, a refuge, and a vehicle for empathy."

Lewis Hamilton: The Boy with a Bird in his Chest – "A heartbreaking yet hopeful novel about the things that make us unique and lovable, The Boy with a Bird in His Chest grapples with the fear, depression, and feelings of isolation that come with believing that we will never be loved, let alone accepted, for who we truly are, and learning to live fully and openly regardless."

Max Verstappen: Atomic Habits – "Atomic Habits will reshape the way you think about progress and success, and give you the tools and strategies you need to transform your habits--whether you are a team looking to win a championship ..."

Zhou Guanyu: A Visible Man – "When Edward Enninful became the first Black editor-in-chief of British Vogue, few in the world of fashion wanted to confront how it failed to represent the world we live in. But Edward, a champion of inclusion throughout his life, rapidly changed that."

Pierre Gasly: Misery – "He's a bestselling novelist who has finally met his biggest fan. Her name is Annie Wilkes and she is more than a rabid reader – she is Paul's nurse, tending his shattered body after an automobile accident. But she is also his captor, keeping him prisoner in her isolated house."

Valtteri Bottas: Foundryside – "To have a chance at surviving ... Sancia will have to marshal unlikely allies ... and undergo her own transformation ..."

Fernando Alonso: The House of the Spirits – "an enthralling saga that spans decades and lives, twining the personal and the political into an epic novel of love, magic, and fate."

Kevin Magnussen: The Daily Dad – "366 Meditations on Parenting, Love, and Raising Great Kids"

Sergio Perez: Bad Feminist – "an inspiring call-to-arms of all the ways we still need to do better"

Building on the excellent work by @vegasgrandprix and @kritischetheologie

[elaratyrell]

Misery {Annie Wilkes! Aemond Targaryen x Author! Reader}

*All images found on Pinterest*

Warnings: Dark! Aemond, stalking, language, mentions of murder Smut- oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), female orgasm

*Divider from Firefly Graphics*

Synopsis: You find yourself near death after being the victim of a car accident in a snow storm while working on the latest instalment in your bestselling Misery series. The man who found you, your self declared number one fan, seems innocent enough, but his dark past, and even darker intentions, soon become clear

With a sigh of slight relief, you placed the final page on top of the pile beside you, tying a rubber band around it and placing it in a blue leather case.

Another book finished to hopefully join the others on the bestsellers list.

You had written twelve other books, to be exact, and had now finished your first completed draft for the thirteenth.

The cursed number.

The unlucky number.

The number of misfortune.

But for you it was a blessing.

For years you had dedicated your life to the running series of books centred around a character called Misery. You'd published your first book at eighteen, becoming the new face of the romance genre. And as you had grown up, your books had matured as well, becoming darker, bordering on the thriller genre as well as still centering on the romantic aspect. It was a bold move, but seemed to pay off, as it had made you even more popular than before.

Yet, after dedicating your life to one character for an entire decade now, you knew you had to move on, take another path in a new series you were going to write. You knew some of your fans would be disappointed that this would be the last entry in the Misery series, but it had to be done.

It felt like a relief to you, that you could finally move on with your life. And you felt as though it were almost a weight being lifted off your shoulders as finished your usual celebration of a single cigarette and champagne. You rose to your feet to take the manuscript to your car with the rest of your belongings, departing from a small log cabin called Winterfell Lodge you always rented out when working on your latest novel. It was always calming to get some time away from the chaos of the city.

You pulled your coat around you tighter, the snow flurry thickening around you as you loaded your bags into the trunk of your car. Usually, you wouldn't drive in weather like this, especially as it seemed as though a snow storm was fast approaching, but you needed to get back to the city as fast as possible.

Quickly shooting your agent a message to let you know you had finished the initial draft and were on your way to get back to the city, you started the car and drove away from Winterfell Lodge.

You squinted slightly as the snowfall grew thicker still, trying to see the curve in the road as the wipers speed couldn't keep up with the snow that was now covering the road. You slowed your speed, maintaining control of your car, humming along to the song playing on the radio.

Maybe you should have waited for tomorrow.

It was already late in the afternoon, and the clouds darkened the sky.

You turned on your car's headlights, a small sign reading 'Curved road, next thirteen miles'.

You hit the curve no problem, turning the wheel with perfect control, keeping a steady speed as you continued turning the wheel, but suddenly one of the wheels skidded, followed by another as the car span erratically out of control.

And all you remembered was the car spinning of the road, followed by it slamming into a tree, doing a one hundred and eighty degree flip, landing on it's hood.

And then as you fell into the darkness, you heard the harsh sound of the radio static and the howling winds, and felt the blood trickling down the side of your face.

Followed by nothing. Only darkness.

When you awoke, you felt numb.

You skin was paler, and clammy with a feverish sweat that sent a slight tremble through you. You couldn't lift any of your limbs. They felt weighted down. You didn't even want to try and lift your head.

"You're awake."

The voice was male. It sounded calm, well spoken. Soothing, almost.

Approaching footsteps to your bedside soon brought the owner of the voice into your vision.

He looked around your age, maybe two or three years younger, around twenty five or six, perhaps. He had long silver hair tied half up, a strong jaw and a tall, well defined figure. One of his eyes was a vivid blue, like a sapphire, the other a cloudy white, a long scar running from his brow down to his cheek. Resting on the bridge of his nose was a pair of black rimmed glasses. He was dressed in a dark blue sweater, the white collar of his shirt peaking up above its neckline, and a pair of black trousers.

Your saviour was very handsome, indeed.

"W-where... where a-am-"

"Shush," He interrupted you, placing the back of his cool hand against your forehead, frowning slightly at the heat radiating on your skin from the fever. "We're just between Storm's End and Winterfell. You've been here two days. I was concerned that you were not going to pull through. I'm thankful to say that I think you will recover. You'll be okay. Thank the gods you'll be okay." He shot you a slightly relieved smile. "Oh, how foolish of me. My name is Aemond Targaryen, and I'm your-"

"Number one fan?" You murmured, your eyes fluttering closed from a split second before opening again to see him shooting you a rather bashful smile, his cheeks dusted with pink.

"That- that's right," He murmured. "I-I am also a doctor, fortunately enough." He added, gesturing to where you were connected to a drip before outstretching his hand and opening his palm to reveal two pills. "You need to take these for the pain," He said softly, lifting your head slightly to bring the pills to your lips and swallow them, his fingertips lingering slightly against your lips.

Aemond propped up the pillows slightly, resting your head back down. Giving you a better view of your room, you noted you appeared to be in a rather old cottage or farmhouse. Your room was rather charming; wood panelled walls, a large fireplace opposite the bed. From the window, you saw a view of the mountains.

"Shouldn't I be in hospital?" You mumbled.

"The blizzard was too strong. I didn't want to risk trying to get you there. I couldn't even call, the phone lines are down and I don't own a mobile, I'm afraid. I doubt you could even get signal out here with the weather like this."

"Thank you for saving me," You murmured, you eyes aching with fatigue.

"You are more than welcome. Now, you should get some rest. You nearly lost your life." He replied, stepping back. "I'll be back to check on your when your meds run out," Was the last thing he said before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

Your fever past after a few days in Aemond's care, but you were still incredibly weak. But Aemond promised you that things would get better.

"It's not going to hurt forever, I promise you."

"Will I be able to walk?" You asked.

"Of course. And your arm will be fine, too. Your shoulder was rather badly dislocated, but I managed to pop it back in there. But I must say, I am rather proud of what I managed to do with your legs, especially considering what I had around the house. In fact I don't think there's a doctor in the whole of Westeros that could do a better job."

And with a flourish of blankets, he made your legs visible to you for the first time.

From the knees down, you believed you resembled a mummy. Steel rods that seemed to be remains of aluminium crutches were used as splints with taping circled around them. From the knees up, your thighs were swollen and horribly bruised.

Upon seeing your slightly horrified expression, Aemond hastily added. "It is not nearly as bad as it looks considering the severity of your injuries. You have a compound fracture of the tibia in both legs, and the fibula in the left leg is fractured too. I could hear the bones moving, so it's best for your legs to remain immobile. And as soon as the roads open, I'll take you to a hospital. In the meantime, you've got a lot of recovering to do, and I consider it an honour that you'll do it in my home." He gave you a kind smile, once again leaving you to get some more rest until he had to administer your next round of painkillers.

And soon enough Aemond's visits to your room became more frequent and for longer periods of time. He didn't just stay to gave you your meds, but also to reassure you that the sweeling to your cheek would go down, and how you were still beautiful, and how much he adored your books.

"It was quite a miracle that you found me," You said one evening after Aemond had fed you your dinner. He let out a small, slightly nervous chuckle in response, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Actually, it wasn't a miracle at all. I... as I... in a way... I was following you."

"Fo-following me?" You stammered out.

"Well it isn't exactly a secret that you were staying at Winterfell Lodge, you know, considering that I am your number one fan, but some nights I found myself driving there, sitting outside and just looking at the light in your cabin, knowing you were most likely creating another Misery masterpiece. I'd try to imagine what the world's greatest writer was creating." He replied, his voice light and airy, as though it was the most simple explanation.

"Can you say that last part again? I didn't quite hear..." You murmured, trying to brush off the fact he practically stalked you. Aemond just shot you a small smile in response.

"The world's greatest writer." He repeated before continuing. "Anyway, the other afternoon, when I was on my way home, there you were leaving the lodge. I must say I was curious as to why an intelligent woman such as yourself would go for a drive with a storm such as that approaching."

"I... didn't know there was going to be a storm like that..."

"Well, luckily I did," He replied. "And, it was lucky for me too. Because you're alive, and now you can write more incredible books. I've read absolutely everything you've written. I enjoyed your three standalone novels at the start of your career immensely, but the Misery series... I must say that they are my absolute favourite. I-I know them all by heart, all twelve of them. I love them, they helped me through my darkest times... through any obstacle I've faced in my life, I've managed to find solace with Misery.

You couldn't helped but feel touched by the way he spoke so fondly of your work, how he constantly sang your praises whenever he got the chance. The man was socially awkward it seemed, and perhaps rather shy at times, but he was still surprisingly charming.

"You're too kind..."

"And you're too brilliant," He replied. "You must be to create such a wonderful character like Misery." As he spoke, he traced a finger down your cheek. The swelling was gone, and the bruise was fading. He cleared his throat, hastily pulling his hand away and rising to your feet. "I'll um... just wash these dishes up." He said, seeming rather embarrassed all of a sudden. "I'm sure the road will be open soon, which means the phone lines will be back up in no time. But until they are, I'll kept trying so you can phone your agent."

He stopped when he reached the doorway, turning away from you, his hand hovering over the door knob.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Oh goodness no. I-I was just wondering if I could ask you a favour."

"I'm sure it's the least I could do after you've shown me such kindness." You replied, mustering a small smile that made his expression brighten.

"It's just that I noticed in your case there was a new manuscript..." He trailed off, hesitating slightly.

"You want to read it?"

"If it's not too much trouble. I do not mean to intrude."

"I usually only let three people read my new work this early," You replied, making his smile drop slightly. "And that's my editor, my agent... and the person who was kind enough to save me from dying in a car wreck."

"I... thank you," Aemond smiled. "You have no clue as to the gift you've given me and the gratitude I feel to you."

You shot him a smile, but that soon changed into a grimace as you winced from the pain.

Aemond glanced at his watch, hastily placing your empty plate on the bedside table before reaching into his pocket for the painkillers.

"It's like clockwork, the way your pain returns," He murmured, pressing a glass of water to your lips to help you swallow the pills. "The pain will subside soon. It will be okay," He sighed, placing his hand over yours as your expression twisted in discomfort.

"What's the title of your newly finished book?" He asked, trying to take your mind away from the pain.

"I'm not sure yet," You murmured. "I usually come up with the title after the final draft is finished. Perhaps after you read it, you'll have an idea or two."

Aemond's expression brightened again. "I will do my best not to let you down."

Days past, and soon enough Aemond could move you from the bed to a wheelchair. Your arm was healing nicely, as were your legs, despite there still being some time until the latter were properly healed. Aemond never failed to update your over his progress of the manuscript.

"I read chapter one, it was one of your best introductions to a Misery novel I have ever read..."

"Page twenty, I've reached. It's incredible how you can engage with the reader so quickly in the novel..."

"Page thirty, I had to force myself to put it down..."

It wasn't until one day when he came in with your lunch that something seemed a little... off, about Aemond.

"I know I'm only forty pages into the book..." He began in his usual tone. "But... oh I cannot criticise someone like you-"

"It's fine," You replied. "I can take it. Believe me, if I can deal with the critics, I'm sure I can handle whatever my number one fan has to say."

Aemond softly exhaled, keeping his gaze fixed on where he was cutting up your lunch. "It's just..."

"Just what?"

"It is brilliantly written," Aemond admitted. "Although everything you write is brilliant. But... the swearing..."

You raised an eyebrow.

"The... swearing...?"

"Yes, the swearing. There, I said it!"

"It bothers you?"

"It is inappropriate. It has no nobility," He protested, sawing through the food on your plate.

"It is appropriate for the setting and background of the character speaking-"

Aemond stilled, his hands stopping from cutting your food for you. His head lifted to meet your gaze, his expression uncharacteristically cold.

"No. It isn't," He replied firmly, resuming to cutting your food, his gaze still focused on you. "What do you think people say when they go into the grocery shop in town. Give me a carton of those effing eggs and five slices of that bitchly roast chicken?"

You couldn't help but smile at his refrain from using the profanities, but it faltered as the cutting becoming more and more erratic.

"...And in the bank, do I tell Mr Lannister, here's one big bastard of a cheque, give me some of your darn money?"

You let out a nervous chuckle at his rants, but soon enough your ears were greeted by the grating sound of metal against china. He looked down, slamming the plate down on bedside table.

"There! See? Now see what you have made me do! These were my mother's plates! What she left me when she passed! And now, it's all scratched!"

His chest heaved as he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. When they reopened, his good eye was full of shame and embarrassment.

"Oh... I'm so sorry... sometimes I can get so worked up I... oh, can you ever forgive me? Here..." He pressed your pills to your lips before picking up the plate, shooting you a rather overly sweet smile.

"I hope you can forgive me. Oh, Y/N... how I adore you. I mean... your mind. Your creativity... that is all I meant."

Several days passed, and Aemond's previous disposition had returned. He didn't lecture you over the choice of language used in the book, but still seemed disapproving nonetheless. He still cooked and fed you your meals, brushed your teeth, gave you your pills, praised you every waking moment he was with you. The phones were still apparently out, but he had assured you it was only a matter of time before they were up and running again. He had even managed to convince you to autograph his limited edition copy of your first Misery novel, promising to cherish it for the rest of his days.

He still gave you regular updates on reading your manuscript. At page 185, he expressed his sadness at being over halfway through. At page 300, he branded it better than perfect, that it was divine. He said it was more beautiful than any tapestry adorning the Red Keep. He had then introduced you to his pet snake, Vhagar, and his cat called... Misery.

And you had found out more about him.

How he had graduated top of his class from medical school, and how his peers and his family were constantly consumed with jealousy from his success. How they would attempt to belittle and mock him for his eye, and how in his lowest moment, his fiancée, Alys, had left him, but you had saved him with releasing your newest Misery novel some weeks later.

He had told you about the neglect from his father, his older brother's alcoholism and his mother's untimely death. He stiffened when he mentioned his eye, but you quickly changed the conversation and didn't bring it up again, not wanting to upset him by bringing up possible past trauma. And you had listened to him, consoled him over the misfortunes of his past, and he had expressed his gratitude in return.

And then he had left you to rest while he returned to finish the manuscript, which he had entitled Misery's Child.

The slam of your bedroom door awoke you from your doze, your eyes fluttering open to reveal Aemond staring down at you, his face ashen and jaw clenched.

He must have finished the book, it seemed.

"You... she cannot be dead," He murmured. "Misery cannot be dead!" He then exclaimed, voice rising. "How... how could you do this to me?"

"Women in that age... it was tragically common for them to die in childbirth, Aemond. I'm sure you know that. But you know, she will still be alive in... in spirit..."

"I do not want her spirit! I WANT HER! AND YOU MURDERED HER!" He yelled.

"I... I didn't kill her..."

"THEN WHO DID?"

"Nobody she... she passed away and..."

"She passed awa- she passed away?! No, Y/N, you did it. You killed her. You murdered my Misery."

He picked up the chair by your beside where he usually sat with you with ease despite it's weight, rising it in the air as if to strike it down on you before turning and throwing it against the wall. It shattered immediately upon impact, breaking into pieces on the floor.

"I... I thought you were good," He murmured, tone suddenly soft. "But you're not good. You're just a dirty, untrustworthy woman. I don't... I don't think I should be near you for a while..."

He walked to the door, and stopped to turn back to you.

"And don't even think about anybody coming for you. Not the doctors, your agent, your editor... I won't call them. I haven't called them and I never will. Nobody knows you're even here. And you better hope nothing ever happens to me... because if it does... you'll die."

After the click in the lock of your door, followed by the slamming of the front door and the revving of Aemond's car as it pulls away from the house, you let out the breath you didn't know you had been holding.

You were slightly shaken from Aemond's outburst, but tried to focus on what needed to be done, shifting to the other side of your bed and reaching out with your arm. It had come out of it's sling several days ago, and was now bandaged in a cast. You managed to grasp ahold of the armrest and pull it towards the best, shifting your body closer to the edge of the bed. Your legs screamed in agony as you manoeuvred yourself onto the wheelchair, but you persisted nonetheless, managing to sit down in the chair and wheel yourself towards the door. Reaching into your hair, you pulled out a hairpin Aemond had leant you, pushing it into the keyhole and soon enough hearing a click. Turning the knob, you pulled open the door and wheeled yourself out of the room, looking down the flight of stairs that blocked your way.

Letting out a deep sigh, you gripped the banister with one hand as you slowly steered yourself to the edge of the staircase.

"What have I got to lose?" You murmured, before wheeling the chair down the stairs.

The chair turned on its side as it crashed down the last step, but you managed to hoist yourself up again. You immediately tried grabbing a phone, but it turned out to be fake. You then discovered the windows bolted shut and both of the front and back doors having a second lock at the top, which you couldn't reach due to not being strong enough to stand just yet.

You wheeled yourself back into the living room, looking at the photographs placed on the drawers against the wall. There was Aemond as a young boy standing with his siblings and mother, his eye unharmed. Another showed him graduating medical school, a proud smile on his face. The third was him with his mother. And the fourth... was you.

He truly wasn't lying when he said he was your biggest fan.

Between the two photographs was a crystal dragon ornament, and beneath that was an emerald scrap book. You lifted the ornament carefully and grabbed the book, opened it.

The beginning seemed fairly normal. More photographs of his childhood and teen years. The was a photograph of him at what seemed to be a formal event with a women you only assumed was Alys. She was dressed in dark green, matching Aemond's tie, and you were sure she was very pretty, but you couldn't see her face due to the black ink scribbled over it, almost cutting through the photo. The next page was work related. More photographs and newspaper clippings of his medical success.

But turning the page was a different story entirely.

The first page contained a page of the newspaper, what seemed to be it's headline emblazoned in large capital letters.

'Doctor Aemond Targaryen arrested for the murder of nephew Lucerys Velaryon'

'Doctor Aemond Targaryen was arrested this morning, accused of the murder of his nephew, Lucerys Velaryon. Targaryen, 20, pleaded not guilty to the death of Velaryon, 16, under the accusation he had simply acted in self defence after his nephew attacked him with a knife and caused the disfigurement of his left eye'

And it only got worse as you read the following pages.

'Targaryen trial postponed until December 10.'

Accompanying the headlines were photographs of him standing in front of the courthouse with his lawyer, Larys Strong, a stony expression on his face.

'Targaryen declared innocent by jury, claims he was a victim of a malicious attack.'

'Shamed doctor Aemond Targaryen resigns from King's Landing hospice.'

You slammed the book shut, a sick feeling brewing in your stomach as you hastily placed the book in it's position with the ornament on top.

Wheeling yourself to the stairs, you gripped the banister and you pulled yourself up the stairs. Your arms ached, the muscle burning and sweat beading on your forehead as you persisted, refusing to let go and crash back down to the bottom again.

In time, you reached the top of the stairs, moving the wheelchair as quickly as you could, taking the pin out and moving towards the bed, when a slam of a car door stopped you in your tracks.

Aemond was back.

You knew he would enquire about the now unlocked door, but you could just pass it off by saying you urgently needed to use the bathroom. You also knew that you didn't have enough time to haul yourself back into bed, and so you did what you could, and threw yourself out of the chair and onto the floor, pushing the wheelchair away from you slightly as the front door opened, the rustling of paper bags being put on the table before the creaking of the stairs. There was a slight falter before he twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

He knew it was unlocked.

"What happened?" He asked, voice laced with concern as he hurried over to you, lifting you into his arms and shushing your cry of pain as he placed you down in bed atop the covers. His glasses had been taken off, the brilliant blue of his good eye burning into you.

"I needed the bathroom, but I couldn't get back into bed I... I lost my balance and fell on the floor..." You lied, hoping that you managed to convince him that your story was true.

"You needed to use the bathroom?" He asked, receiving a nod from you in response.

"And you managed to get yourself on and off the toilet alright?"

Another nod.

He slowly nodded in response, and you let out a small sigh of relief, visibly relaxing at him seemingly believing your story.

"And... you managed to get down the stairs and into the living room without hurting yourself after picking your bedroom door lock?" He added, his tone still soft.

A little too soft.

"Aemond... I never..."

"And you managed to somehow drag yourself back upstairs into your room?"

"I... I don't..."

"The dragon ornament on top of my photograph album," He replied. "It was pointing the wrong way."

You opened your mouth to speak, but found yourself at a loss for words, you mouth dry and your blood running cold.

"It's okay," He murmured, running his thumb over your lower lip. "I shouldn't have scared you. I know I did. I frightened you, hm? Well for that I apologise. I will refrain from repeating that behaviour in the future." He added, leaning forward slightly. "You are so incredibly important to me, Y/N. I'm sure you know that. You saw the photograph downstairs..."

You tried to speak again but he quickly shushed you, the finger resting on your lip tracing down your jaw, your neck, across your collarbone. His pupil had dilated, his breath quickening slightly as his hand moved down to your chest, covered by one of his shirts he had given you, framing your body in a pale blue.

"You do not need to speak Y/N," He whispered, leaning closer still, one hand placed the other side of you, caging you against him. "You will only waste your energy..."

As he pressed his lips to yours, you knew you couldn't fight back. You were weaker with him even without your injuries, and with his erratic behaviour, and what you had discovered downstairs...

And so you let him deepen the kiss. You let him part your lips with his tongue. You let his hand wander down from fondling your breast to your waist, pulling the shorts you had on down to your knees.

You let him ever so gently part your legs, pressing a line of kisses along your upper thigh, and then pay the same attention to the other, his lips tracing your flesh that had been swollen with bruises the week before.

Did you even know how long you had been here?

Staring up at the same ceiling, being enclosed in those same four walls day after day had merged the days together.

And if you asked Aemond, would he tell you the truth?

You couldn't trust him, but you needed to stay alive. And if you had any hope of getting out of here alive, you needed to stay on his good side.

And so there you were, legs spread as Aemond lowered himself between them, his moans vibrating against you at your taste, his tongue circling your clit and sending a jolt of pleasure through you that was both pain and pleasure as your legs twitched slightly, a hand tangling in his silver locks.

You resented the way your legs squeezed around his head as he thrust two fingers into you, murmuring against you about how wet with want you were for him. Your body was betraying you, but you couldn't stop the way he was making you feel such pleasure. The mere curling of his fingers against your sweet spot, or the flick of his tongue against your swollen clit caused a string of breathy moans to leave you, and soon you found yourself coming undone. He drew his fingers out of you, replacing them with his tongue as he eagerly lapped at your release.

He sat back, lips glinting with your release. He reached forward, fingers parting your lips so you could taste yourself on him. He let out a satisfactory groan as you sucked on his fingers, allowing them to linger on your lips as he pulled away.

Pressing his lips to yours, he pulled your underwear and shorts back up to rest on your hips.

"I would love to go further with you, but I'll have to wait until you're back to your full strength. It may take some time... but I think I can manage with having your addictive taste on my tongue until I can truly claim you as mine. You'd like that, hm?"

"I..." You let out a deep breath. This man was unhinged. He'd break your ankles with a sledgehammer before letting you leave. You knew that your best chance to survive this, was to play along. Allow Aemond to believe that you were beginning to reciprocate his affections for long enough so he could let down his walls and nurse you back to health so you could escape.

"I would like that..." You murmured, looking away to feign embarrassment.

"It is nothing to be ashamed of, my darling Y/N." Aemond replied, looking at you with such fondness, you wouldn't have believed he was a murderer. He paused for a moment. "This may not be the best time, but I have a surprise for you. In the other guest room."

"Oh... okay..."

"If you want to wait another day, as disappointing as that would be-"

"No, I can see it now," You hastily replied as to not flair that nasty temper up again. He smiled warmly in response, stepping towards you as you reached for the wheelchair, but he instead lifted you into your arms bridal style, walking you away from the chair and towards the bedroom door. Instinctively, you wrapped an arm around the back of his neck, your head resting against his shoulder.

He pushed open the door with his foot, giving you another overly sweet smile as he proudly declared "It's your new studio. I set it up last night. I just needed to get the typewriter and paper, which are downstairs."

"But... w-why..."

"You need a place to work, after all," He interrupted you, placing you down on the desk chair. "All writers need a place to work."

"B-but... what would I write?" You asked.

Aemond smirked at you, walking over to where a trashcan sat in the far corner of the room. The clang as it landed on the floor echoed around the room as he dropped it at your feet, your manuscript discarded in it.

"You want me... to burn my book?" You looked up at him in disbelief.

"I know this may be difficult to you," Aemond nodded, reaching into his back pocket and bringing out a box of matches.

"I... I can't..."

"Yes. You can," Aemond's voice was firm. "You can do this. Do it. Now."

Your hands began to tremble as he pressed the matchbox into them, pouring lighter fluid into the trashcan.

"I know this is the only copy," He continued. "You always only write one copy at first. When you were eighteen, you wrote your first book and you didn't make a single copy. Because you didn't think anybody would take it seriously. But they did. And you kept that tradition because it's a superstition to you, and you don't want to make a copy in fear of it being rejected. I'm trying to help you can't you see that?" His voice was steadily rising as his agitation grew, making the tremble in your hands worsen.

"I just want to help you. Why won't you let me help-"

As he spoke, you hastily lit one of the matches and threw it in the trashcan, the manuscript exploding into flame.

And as Aemond lovingly kissed your forehead, murmuring how proud he was of you for being so strong, all you could do was stare at the flames consuming your work, your own masterpiece.

"Now you can go back to doing what you're great at," Aemond murmured, a hand resting on your shoulder. "You can write a new novel, your greatest achievement ever... Misery's return."

He knelt down by you, a finger hooking beneath your chin, turning your head to meet his gaze. "I know you didn't mean it when you killed her. And now you can make it right. You can even write it in my honour, as a thanks for saving your life and nursing you back to health." He leaned forward so his breath was tickling your ear, his hand now resting on your thigh. "Although there are also other ways you can repay that debt to me."

"And you... you expect me to write something up just like that?" You asked.

"I expect nothing less than a masterpiece from you," He replied reassuringly, pressing another kiss to you, this time on the cheek. "I have the upmost faith in you my darling... I know you won't let me down... and if you do... we'll just have to start again. And again. And again... you won't try to escape, will you?"

"O-of course not. I... wouldn't dream of it."

Aemond hummed in approval. "I know you won't," He whispered, kissing you on the lips before standing up. "No one will come for you. If they do... I won't let them take you. If they try to take you from you, or if you do try to leave..." He said, opening a storage closet and reached inside, brandishing a sledgehammer. "There are other ways of keeping you here... with me... forever..."

Masterlist

[somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds]

‘Armand is evil’ ‘Armand is manipulative’ Armand loves like Asami from Audition and Annie Wilkes from Misery and we’re supposed to root against him

[natvlad93]

⚠️TW: Implied Violence

This is a sim for #elliescc @mylittlesimcorner 31-day Simblreen CAS challenge, Annie Wilkes from the movie Misery (1990) and played by the amazing Kathy Bates. Yes, it's another psychological thriller movie from the 90s but I grew up watching this too! lol

Annie to Paul: "You're not good. You're just another lying old dirty birdie."

Day 27 theme:

🤩🔨Killer👨‍🦽😨

This was the story of a writer Paul Sheldon, played by James Caan (RIP), who is saved after a car crash by a woman named Annie who happens to be his "number one fan" 🤭 she's very helpful in nursing him to health but eventually doesn't want him to leave. She does whatever means necessary to keep Paul from leaving (even killing the town sheriff for snooping), leaving him no choice but to find his own way out.

Well, this is what this scene results in haha 😅

[polkadotjohnson]

What makes you love David so much? I mean we all feel the same, but what about him attracts you?

For the first time, I actually found an actor that pulls me deeply into whatever movie, tv series, whatever he's doing. He's too good. The only other time I kinda felt like this was for David Tennant a few years ago, but I can't really separate him from Doctor Who, which is where I first saw him, so he always feels like Ten to me (not that that's his fault or anything, the man's great and I still love him and always will, it's a me thing). With David [Dastmalchian] every role is a complete new thing, every one of his characters make me feel so many emotions, be they good or bad, and to me this is an amazing thing. Like, okay, my favorite painter is Vincent Van Gogh because when I was little and someone showed me a couple of his paintings and I started crying and he asked me why and I didn't know what to say. He's the only painter whose work make me feel that way. I don't even know what it is about it, I don't know the first thing about art, but I love him and his paintings.

I'm not gonna lie, David being a goth and so my type has something to do with it also lol I've always liked the tall, dark and handsome and mysterious and macabre and sinister but who's actually really a big cute, soft and silly nerd. And his positivity about his vitiligo made me feel better about the spots that have appeared on my face a few months back.

I love how altruistic he is, his activism, love the way he's crazy about Eve and his kids, love how he didn't get the same ending as Jude and left all that shit behind, his gross stories on Steve Agee's podcast. Love his stupid beautiful face too. There's more but I'm not about to turn this into a Stephen King novel no i don't mean Misery i'm not annie wilkes i'm not the length the le

Hate the amount of lost media with him in it 😣

[befickleforever]

If you liked [inside no 9 episode] watch [film] : a guide. Part 1

(Some of these films go off vibes alone, whilst others are the films that directly inspired the episode. For example, we all know where the wicker man will be included)

If you liked ‘Simon Says’, consider:

- Misery (1990). After a serious car crash, novelist Paul Sheldon is rescued by former nurse Annie Wilkes, who claims to be his biggest fan.

- Sunset Boulevard (1950). An aging silent film queen refuses to accept that her stardom has ended. She hires a young screenwriter to help set up her movie comeback.

- Perfect Blue (1997). A young Japanese singer is encouraged by her agent to quit singing and pursue an acting career, beginning with a role in a murder mystery TV show.

- The King of Comedy (1982). Rupert Pupkin is a failure in life but a celebrity in his own mind, hosting an imaginary talk show in his mother's basement.

- The Human Centipede 2 (Full Sequence) (2011). Martin, a mentally disturbed loner that obsesses over the film The Human Centipede (First Sequence), kidnaps a group of people to create his own 'human centipede' to act out his perverse sexual fantasies.

If you liked ‘The Understudy’ consider:

- Sleuth (1972). This mystery finds Andrew Wyke, a wealthy author of detective novels and game aficionado, facing off against his wife's lover, Milo Tindle, a middle-class hair salon-owner.

- Richard III (1995). A murderous lust for the British throne sees Richard III descend into madness.

- Throne of Blood (1957). Returning to their lord's castle, samurai warriors Washizu and Miki are waylaid by a spirit who predicts their futures.

- Theatre of Blood (1973). After an unsuccessful attempt at suicide, Lionheart sets out to murder all of his critics, each with a different style of death taken from a Shakespeare play.

If you liked ‘The Trial of Elizabeth Gadge’ consider:

- Witchhammer (1970). When a beggar is caught hiding her communion wafer, the hunt for witches begins.

- The Witch (2015). In 1630 New England, panic and despair envelops a farmer, his wife and their children when youngest son Samuel suddenly vanishes.

- Witchfinder General (1968). When Matthew Hopkins is appointed Witchfinder General by the Puritans under Cromwell, he is empowered to travel the countryside with his henchmen and collect a fee for each witch from whom he extracts a confession - a policy which is exploited to the full.

If you liked ‘The Harrowing’ consider:

- Carry on Screaming! (1966). An investigation into the disappearance of several young women leads two bumbling Victorian detectives to the home of Dr Watt and his vampish sister Valeria.

- A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (2014). Residents of a worn-down Iranian city encounter a skateboarding vampire who preys on men who disrespect women.

If you liked ‘Mr King’ consider:

- The Wicker Man (1973). Sergeant Howie arrives on the small Scottish island of Summerisle to investigate the report of a missing child.

- In The Earth (2021). A scientist and park scout conduct a routine experiment while the world looks for a cure to a lethal virus and as the night progresses, they experience unexplainable things.

- Midsommar (2019). Dani's psychological trauma affects her relationship with Christian, her lover. However, when they visit their friend's ancestral commune in an effort to mend things, it changes their lives forever.

- The Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971). Ralph Gower and a local judge are on a quest to get a bunch of possessed kids with a strange fur on their skin under control after they end up killing the locals.

[harlequindaydream]

Halfway done! Pt 3/6 of my women in horror series ♡ I haven't started on the rest yet so I need to get on it, though I have most of my early 2000s girls picked out. Unsure of who all I want for 2010s and 2020s.

From left to right top to bottom is: Rochelle and Sarah from The Craft, Mima Kirigoe from Perfect Blue, Bonnie and Nancy from The Craft, Clarice Starling from Silence of the Lambs, Casey Becker from Scream, Annie Wilkes from Misery, Sadako from Ringu, Tiffany Valentine from Bride of Chucky, Hallie McDaniel from Scream 2, Elizabeth Shelley (the monster) from Frankenhooker, and Asami Yamazaki from Audition.

[nqueso-emergency]

It's wild to me that a whole generation of fans could have read/watched "Misery" and the message they took from it was -- "Wow, that Annie Wilkes was really on to something! Abuse them and they'll give you what you want." It worked out so well for Annie, after all.

OH NO YOU DIDN'T

... you're right 😭😭😭

[rnaryjune]

btw my mom said angela gives her annie wilkes vibes from misery

[most-screwed-by-writers-tourney]

Also, potential list of the yandere characters under the read more!

1. Cutthroat from Akudama Drive

2. Belphegor (Obey Me)

3. Griffith (Berserk)

4. Mimimi, Hypnosis Mic

5. Zenos yae Galvus from Final Fantasy 14

6. Shion Sonozaki from Higurashi

7. Yandere-Chan from Carflo + co's Yandere High School Minecraft Roleplay series

8. Luo Binghe, Scum Villain’s Self Saving System

9. Monica Campanella, Baccano!

10. Creed, Black Cat

11. Seiko, Blood on the Tracks

12. Makima, Chainsaw Man

13. Mao, Code Geass

14. Mariko Shinobu, Dear Brother

15. Mika Harima, Durarara

16. Akito Sohma, Fruits Baskrt

17. Shigure Sohma, Fruits Basket

18. Yuno Gasai, Future Diary

19. Satou, Happy Sugar Life

20. Yukako Yamagishi, JJBA Diamond is Unbreakable

21. Himiko Toga, My Hero Academia

22. Haru, My Little Monster

23. Oz, Pandora Hearts

24. Kuroi, Thou Shalt Not Die

25. Seishirou, Tokyo Babylon

26. Kish, Tokyo Mew Mew

27. Asami, Audition

28. Lucille Sharpe, Crimson Peak

29. Alex Forrest, Fatal Attraction

30. Jareth, Labyrinth

31. Annie Wilkes, Misery

32. Evelyn Draper, Play Misty for Me

33. Charlie Stoker, Stoker

34. Nellie Lovett, Sweeney Todd

35. Victor Frankenstein, The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein

36. Frollo, Hunchback of Notre Dame

37. Erik, Phantom of the Opera

38. Fu Shenxing, Who is the Prey

39. Heathcliff, Wuthering Heights

40. Joe Goldberg, You

41. Missy, Doctor Who

42. Lestat, Interview with the Vampire

43. Kilgrave, Jessica Jones

44. Masato Kisaka, Kamen Rider 555

45. Siyun Baek, Dreaming Freedom

46. Tomoya/Sam, He’s Harmless I swear

47. Morae Baek, I don’t want this kind of hero

48. Lady, I don’t want this kind of hero

49. Yuta, Kubera

50. Thaddeus, Madame Outlaw

51. Yunsu, Trapped

52. JD, Heathers

53. Erik, Yeston and Kopit Phantom

54. Der Tod, Elisabeth

55. Callisto, Villains Are Destined to Die

56. Hannibal, Hannibal

57. Reinhart, I failed to oust the villain

58. Yul, Secret Alliance

59. Hananoi, A Condition Called Love

60. Naoka Ueno, A Silent Voice

61. Sumireko Hanabusa, Akuma no Riddle

62. Esdeath, Akame ga Kill

63. Dracula, Bram Stoker’s Dracula

64. Mashiro Mai, Dead Tube

65. Monika, Doki Doki Literature Club

66. Lucy, Elfen Lied

67. Juvia, Fairy Tail

68. Mimi. flip flappers

69. Akise Aru, Future Diary

70. Elena Aoki, Gleipnir

71. Hades, Hadestown

72. shuu iwamine, Hatoful Boyfriend

73. Luka, Alien Stage

74. LT. Oscar, Lupin the III, The Woman Called Fujiko Mine

75. Sumin Jeong, Marry My Husband

76. Reiko Ichijou, Migi and Dali

77. Diane Selwyn, Mulholland Drive

78. Harry MacDougall, Outlaw Star

79. Root, Person of Interest

80. Jackson Rippner, Red Eye

81. Kozue Kaoru, Revolutionary Girl Utena

82. Seyoung Jin, Surviving Romance

83. Sudou Kayo, Tailer of Enbizaka

84. Hayase, To Your Eternity

85. Tooru Mutsuki, Tokyo Ghoul RE

86. Kichimura Washuu, Tokyo Ghoul RE

87. The Creature, Lisa Frankenstein

88. Pig, Disco Pigs

89. Shinpei, Firefly Wedding

90. Aiko, Goodnight Punpun

91. Sal, Wadanonara

92. Jung, Cheese in the Trap

93. Khalid, From a knight to a lady

94. Margot, Gremoryland

95. Bibi, I love Amy

96. Kairos, I Shall Kill that Sweet Devil

[beckpoppinscosplay]

"There's nothing to worry about. You're going to be just fine. I will take good care of you. I'm your number one fan."

🐷📗🔨

Annie Wilkes from 'Misery' cosplay

100% recycled

7 of 9 for countdown to halloween

[glindaselphie]

another thing that makes annie wilkes as spooky but as cool of a character to me as she is - she’s literally becoming a fixation at this point - is she can be so sweet when she’s in a good mood or when she’s decided you’ve followed the rules.

the way she excitedly introduces misery the pig to paul and proceeds to oink at said pig.

the way she smiles when paul calls her his favourite nurse and asks “did I do good?” about the paper and typewriter.

she’s can go from almost childlike to someone who literally chops a guy’s foot off (or breaks his ankles as she does in the film) to try and keep him with her forever and it’s honestly so cool and spooky and I love her and how fucked up she is.

[fuckyeahfightlock]

My scary movie today was one I could have on kind of in the background while I crocheted. I didn't want to have to read subtitles or really even follow a new story, so I did a rewatch of Misery.

Oh, wait, I forgot--I did start a different movie, Don't Move, because I have been seeing buzz about it. But fifteen minutes in, it just felt like a woman-escaping-from-a-man-trying-to-kill-her movie with nothing else to offer despite its high concept premise (he injects her with a paralytic drug that will take 20 minutes to fully work, then lets her try to escape through the woods). There's ultra-minimal character development in the opening scene, I did not care about either of them. In fact, I was annoyed that she was the grieving mother of a dead child but it was treated as casually as sinking the parents' ship in Disn3y's Frozen; dead babies is the new dead parents as shorthand for trauma, I guess. He was neither charming nor frightening, and I just wished she was jogging through the forest away from a bear instead of this basic, boring guy. Men want to kill us, believe me we get it.

I was tempted to not even write anything about Misery because it's one "everyone" has seen, but it does occur to me it came out in 1990 so people 20 or more years younger than me are actually pretty likely not to have seen it.

Misery is an adaptation of a Stephen King novel, wherein author Paul Sheldon (James Caan) crashes his car on an isolated, snowy mountain road, and is rescued by "his number one fan!," original stan Annie Wilkes (Kathy Bates). When Annie discovers Paul's latest book in the series he hates writing, Misery's Child, kills off the titular Misery Chastain, Annie is not going to put up with that cock-a-doodie nonsense, so using everything in her ex-baby-murdering-nurse arsenal to keep him trapped in her house (addicting him to pain meds in addition to his two broken legs and one broken arm, locking him in his room, threatening him with a gun), Annie forces Paul to write another Misery book, to right the wrongs he has done. Meanwhile , over the course of a month or two of imprisonment, he does what he can to escape.

This was Kathy Bates' big debut film (written by William Goldman [The Princess Bride] and directed by Rob Reiner [When Harry Met Sally. . .]), and at the time it was considered newsworthy that a short, stout, plain-faced woman could come out of nowhere and get nominated for an Oscar (I'm sure she was a well-trained, working actor, but you know the typical 7-year-long "overnight success" story. Or maybe you don't because now everyone has a TV studio in her purse and can get famous just by drunkenly making a blow-job noise. But once upon a time many famous people became famous "overnight" after having worked in their field for several unacknowledged years.). In even bigger news, she won that Oscar. Deservedly so; Annie is by turns sympathetic, odd, off-putting, and downright scary, but Bates does not oversell it. It's a very believable, nuanced performance.

James Caan is doing his James Caan thing, which is to say he seems like an everyman, no genius but no dummy, capable but hindered. All I could think of while watching Misery was director Jon Favreau talking about what a super-serious, cocky asshole (my words) Caan was on the set of Elf. It's amazing what shitty behaviour famous people can get away with--Favreau spoke as if being an above-it-all dick made Caan cooler. But shouldn't that just make him a dick?

Anyway, in some moments the score seems to interfere (in that era there was still a lot of score in every scene of every movie, and it was just normal orchestral music, for the most part, none of the dissonant thundering tones that are the too-much soundtrack in today's horror movie landscape)--a pivotal scene depicting Annie's slide into depression is frightening to watch but also had distracting music playing under it. This film would look and sound much different if it were made in the 2020s. And with the current raft of horror remakes, I'm sure it will.

Misery has some scares and some (medical-grade) gore, and it's creepy and tense, but it's not a horror movie. It's a psychological thriller. So if you like a tense thriller with fantastic acting and a compelling story, and you haven't seen Misery, do yrself a favour.